Hovering on the edge
by Ky03elk
Summary: She doesn't move closer, but she doesn't leave either. Just hovers on the edge. 7x01 Insert (before the last scene). ONE SHOT.


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Hovering on the edge

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Insert for 7x01

Occurs between the two last scenes at the loft (drinks on the couch and the bedroom moment).

Because for weeks the voices in my head have been quiet and today they'd roared.

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Rick reaches for his toothbrush, pressing down on the button to activate its movement, but as he bends at his elbow, he spots her from the corner of his eye and he comes to a stop.

Standing with a shoulder against the edge of the doorway, her gaze searches his face, her stare seeming to travel straight through his skin and into his soul, although her expression remains void, nothing but smooth lines.

What is she trying to see?

All evening there's been this look, this hooded darkness lurking, a pause before she smiles, a hitch before she speaks.

She's happy to have him home - she is right? - had toasted with Alexis and his mom, had reached for his hand as they'd sat on the couch, and yet...

He may have been the one that was missing for two months, but it's Kate that appears to be absent.

Turning back to face the mirror, he continues his vigil, his eyes - of course - lingering on her, and she doesn't move closer, but she doesn't leave either.

Just hovers on the edge.

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Her thumb rubs circles around her engagement ring as she breathes slowly, each expansion of her lungs a reminder that this is real, that she isn't dreaming - she's had this one before - and every cell within her body wants to rush forward, wants to climb his torso, wants the hard lines that is all him under her fingers.

But she can't.

The muscle in his forearm twitches as he presses down on the toothbrush's button again, his gaze leaving hers, and as he studies his hand, pushing over and over, she's reminded why.

Why she stands so far away.

Nothing happens. The toothbrush doesn't work. No whirl, no noise, just a silence that extends, a silence that mirrors the one that she feels deep within.

"What happened to my toothbrush?"

He shakes it, like a wand that's attempting to perform a spell, once and then twice, keeps hitting the button before he angles to where she remains in the doorway.

"It was working fine yesterday."

The sob that exits has claws, shredding her chest in half, ripping at her ribs, and she raises her fingers, shifts to smother the sound before it can reach his ears.

She fails. As does his toothbrush.

"Kate?"

She thrushes her head side to side, unable to speak, and confusion spreads across his features before it's chased by understanding.

And the toothbrush clutters to the floor, his shoulders falling, his hands dangling by his side.

"It doesn't work. Does it?"

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He tries to swallow the ash that's settled on his tongue, tries to force air past his lips, but he can't, and he reaches for the counter, his fingers smacking the rim as his body sways.

It doesn't feel like two months - he's struggling with the concept that he'd disappeared - and his vision narrows, the black creeping in on all sides, before he inhales and everything clears.

Bending, he swipes at his toothbrush, picking it up, and, placing it upright on the counter, the memory that he does have fights against what's actually real.

He'd only recharged this the other day, had wanted his toothbrush ready and roaring to go for their honeymoon... A honeymoon that never happened.

It would have occurred weeks ago, and for a stupid moment his mouth opens before common sense shuts his lips for him.

What did she do instead?

He sighs in relief when the question stays inside, remains unvoiced, because if she appears hesitant now, saying something that insensitive may shatter her completely.

He doesn't mean to be so obtuse, it's just that he hasn't figured out a way to explain to her how he feels.

How he doesn't feel any different.

The side on looks from Espo and Ryan, from the members of the Twelfth, the way they'd watched him, studied him, smashes into the images that he has. How they'd clapped him on the back as he'd stood in his bedroom, joking and threatening him to do right by Kate, even as they'd laughed about her past, their tuxes - well not Ryan's - perfect for the wedding making what was about to happen an actual fact.

But it never happened though. Will it ever happen now?

And that thought rocks him sideways again.

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She steps forward as he lists to one side, her hand extending to catch him by his elbow, but as her palm slides across his gown, the warmth that naturally radiates from him catches her memory in a vice like grip, and she snatches her fingers back.

She's been holding it together, has been hiding behind a wall that brick by brick had slowly built its way around her heart as each day passed, as every lead went nowhere, and she now has to take a sledge hummer to it, to let him back in.

But how?

How does she ignore the whispers of doubt that had slowly become louder, that had roared and battered against her heart as she'd stood where his tent had been - it wasn't his - the grief she'd been hiding, inching higher until it had overflown.

"Kate?"

His arms fold around her shoulders - an action he's done a thousand times before - his lips brushing her forehead, but the sensation of him, the way he feels _so_ _real _is too much.

It feels like home.

And she knocks his toothbrush to the tiles, steps out of his embrace, excuses slipping from her lips.

He doesn't follow, stepping back as she drops to the floor, and not moving, she stays on her heels.

"There's a spare in here."

Opening the cupboard door, she grabs a wrapped disposable, places it onto the counter. She can't focus on the symbolism, the way it's not right, and, making a show of sorting out the rest of the items that live under the sink, she listens as he brushes his teeth, walks out of the bathroom.

She's going to break in his arms, going to let every aching emotion spill forth - it's not if, but when - except she didn't want it to be tonight, didn't want his first night at home to be tarnished with her inability to cope with his return, the questions that remain unanswered.

She'd missed him

She'd hunted for him.

She has him.

But as much as she loves him with every part of her heart and soul...

How does she move forward with the man that has returned?

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One step at a time. By his side. There is no other choice, no other way to find their way back to each other.

He's her always after all.

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All mistakes are mine. Thanks Mum for checking to make sure it made sense after watching Castle (even though you wanted to watch the new episode of Outlander instead ;-)

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Thanks for reading xoxo


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